


The War Fic

by RoryandMikey



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18100079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoryandMikey/pseuds/RoryandMikey
Summary: Tyler Joseph has nothing to lose that summer of 1942 when he is called to war. But when he meets one oh so colourful air marshall Joshua, he realizes his life is not so meaningless after all. Is that a good thing though?Joshua Dun has nothing worth fighting for that summer of 1942, the war raging in world seems like a fight between two kids about who gets to be on the nicer playground. That doesn't mean he is not pissed when he sees all the young men joining the army in hopes of becoming heroes, only to die the moment they step on the battlefield. But when he meets sarcastic Tyler he finds something worth fighting for. How long can it last in this world though?AKA the one where they are actual pilots during World War 2. We apologize in advance for your broken hearts.





	The War Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, kiddos!  
> I'm Mikey and this is the first chapter of small fanfic I'm writing with my bestest fren Rory. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors you may find, we are not native speakers, so sorry about that.  
> This chapter is just a short kind of introduction to the time this fics takes place in, it will be a bit slower first two chapters, but then we will get to the great and gay stuff, I promise.  
> Stick with us frens, and you are in for a ride if you know what I mean.  
> Anyway, hope you will enjoy this short prologue and see you in the next chapter.  
> \- Mikey

Prologue  
Tyler, July 20th, 1942 

The letter was staring at him, it's glare intense, making him swallow the urge to jump up from a chair he was sitting on and run and run until he was far away, somewhere where letters and responsibilities couldn't reach him. Somewhere peaceful and quiet, even though he hated peaceful and quiet. 

He closed his eyes and gripped a small wooden table he was sitting behind hard enough to make his knuckles go white as if trying to keep himself in place, to will the urge to run out of his own legs which seemed to have no connection to his brain. 

But even with his eyes shut, he could see the letter lying just a few inches from his hands, it's blue ink and posh handwriting burned into the boy's memory. Not like he was going to forget that letter any time soon. Maybe ever.

Opening his eyes reluctantly, he finally found the courage to take the letter into his shaking hands. The skin around his nails was bitten, bloody at some places from his previous attempts to calm his anxiety and he cringed a bit when his eyes landed on what he had done to himself again. 

With trembling fingers, he finally opened the envelope. He knew what was awaiting him in the letter without having to read it. But he did it anyway, just to torture himself a tiny bit more.

'Dear Mr. Joseph,  
it is our greatest pleasure to inform you that you have been called to a training camp in Columbus, Ohio. You will participate in a month of training to prepare you for harsh conditions awaiting you in Europe, where you will be shipped to at the beginning of September. The camp will, without a doubt, prepare you to serve our country with honor...'

The boy couldn't bring himself to read the rest of it. He felt sick, his stomach twisting and jumping and probably doing backflips with every breath he took. 

His shaking fingers put the letter back on the table, his body switching to autopilot as he slowly stood up from the chair that has been broken since Christmas because he had no idea how to fix it and he made his way towards a small kitchen window, inch by inch.

It all seemed so unreal while he was still in the relative comfort of his home. Sure, it was a tiny apartment with a broken chair, no light in the bathroom and paper thin walls with neighbors constantly complaining about his 'loud' singing, but there was a literal war happening out there somewhere. The horrors of it, however, seemed like a terrifying fairy tale parents told their kids to make them behave. Even when he heard about it daily on the radio, even when he couldn't step outside his apartment to a diner down the street without hearing people talk about it, it felt distant. Until now.

He was undeniably walking towards the war, like a movie star arriving late for a party. 

The boy looked out the window to a world that seemed grey. People walking down his street, mothers and daughters, fathers and sons and strangers, the cars passing by from time to time. Even though they all had colors, they all seemed grey to the boy watching from behind the glass. 

Like they were fish in one huge aquarium. 

Not that he was any better, a boy who was about to go and 'serve his country with honor'. What exactly was honorable about war, the boy couldn't understand. Young men like him dying while trying to obey orders from old men in suits who treated them like they were just numbers. Pawns in a huge game of chess. What was honorable about that? The boy almost laughed at that. How unnecessary the war was. 

Tyler the pawn, he thought, how poetic. 

It was a good that the last thing Tyler was afraid of was death. Hell, maybe he enrolled just to have the reason to finally die. 

But he doubted it. Maybe he didn't care about himself, but what he did care about were other people. 

Yes, most of them were grey and shallow, but maybe he was being sent away instead of some poor guy who might have a family or someone who cared about him.

Tyler? He had no one, nothing to lose and finally something worth dying for. 

Or so he thought.


End file.
